


The Things We Lose

by Somnaborium



Series: Strength & Clarity [1]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 04:52:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11570703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somnaborium/pseuds/Somnaborium
Summary: Sometimes when the weight of the world is on your shoulders and everything feels dark, all you need is a hand to lift you back into the light.





	The Things We Lose

**Author's Note:**

> **DISCLAIMER**  
> I do not own anything from the Mass Effect game series (unfortunately) but BioWare does.  
> Damn them.  
> I’m just borrowing their characters for fun when my muse grabs me.  
> 
> 
> * * *
> 
> Come and say "hi" to me on [Tumblr!](https://somnaborium.tumblr.com/)  
> 
> 
> * * *
> 
> I actually saw this as a prompt over on the Mass Effect Kink Meme and I really cannot write smut all that well, but the prompt screamed at me to be written and given some fluffy hopefulness at the end. I don't have a LiveJournal account so it's not being posted there, but it will be on my Tumblr account shortly!

Loss is a funny thing when you think about it. It carries the weight of the world with it when it hits a person, but underneath all of the hurt and pain and anger, there's a strange undercurrent of almost-hope - hope that something good and better will come from the lessons learned, the things that loss teaches us along the way.  
  
It's a strange thing to consider, grief leading us to something better when at the time it feels as though nothing positive can ever come from the loss of something - or someone - so important, such a large part of your life.  
No, not just your life - a large part of you. Someone that shaped you, changed you and taught you how to be who are right now. Someone that led you, guided you and gave you life. In more ways than one.  
  
I know I shouldn't mope, shouldn't allow the grief to swallow me down into it's only black depths but sometimes when it's just me, in those rare moments of peace when I don't have someone asking for help or demanding more and more of my time and of me, sometimes when I'm alone in my quarters and curled up in the ridiculously large chair that I've dragged to the windows so I can face the stars and watch them as I always have; those are the moments when my mind sinks into a more maudlin mode.  
  
This is one such moment.  
This is one of the times when being by myself is preferable but being alone is, conversely, far too terrifying.  
  
Do I seek out company and shove this gloom to the back of my mind for another time or do I simply sit and let it wash over me, content in my personal grief, lost in memories and drowning in the losses I've encountered thus far?  
  
I know my father would've given my shoulder a hearty slap in his own sense of comforting camaraderie, tell me to “buck up soldier” (Gods above I could almost hear his voice in that thought), my mother would've been the strong one whose hand on my shoulder carried more weight than any brittle, empty words of comfort and my brother would've made some stupid joke in his attempt to diffuse the sadness, lighten the grief and pain until I finally laughed (usually at him, mind).  
But they're gone now. And while it's true that my mother and father are gone in a more permanent sense of the word, I still feel the loss of my twin as keenly as I would had he died too.  
  
So what, then, do I do?  
I look towards the closed door of my quarters and imagine being around the others while my thoughts and emotions are tangled like thorns in a rose bush. I imagine my mood piercing them all, my grief creating more pain.  
  
No, it's for the best that I sit by myself for a while. At least until -  
  
The soft _swoosh_ of my door drags me out of my thoughts and I turn sharply in my chair to see Jaal walking in, small smile quirking at the corner of his mouth in that far-too-adorable manner of his, head tilted bird-like as he watches me.  
  
I attempt a smile, “hey you.”  
“Hello dearest,” he gestures to the other chair by my desk. “May I join you?”  
  
_Dearest._  
We have become closer lately, once we finally stopped dancing around each other and admitted that there was definitely something beyond friendship between us and his term of endearment has cemented that.  
  
But do I want him here with me right now? Should he be witness to this side of me, the part of me that's not as in control of things, the part of me that peers into the abyss and for a fraction of a second wants to take that step into it?  
This is confusing. When it was just me I didn't have to worry, but now there's someone else to consider, someone else's feelings to think about and I don't know how to navigate this particular minefield. I don't know how to be with another person when I'm like this, when I'm lost to grief and drawn to the darkness of the sky that surrounds me.  
  
“Cassi?”  
  
His voice draws me from my thoughts and I blink rapidly to clear my head.  
Ah, I need to make a decision.  
  
_I'm usually better at this…_  
  
“Better at what, dearest?”  
  
Crap. I'd said that out loud. Now I'm screwed but the decision has been made for me, I suppose.  
  
“Deciding things,” I shrug almost helplessly and the gesture annoys me. I'm not helpless. I'm not. “But yeah, you can sit, if you like.”  
  
He nods, drawing the chair up next to me and reaches out to take my hand in his, squeezing my fingers gently.  
  
“There is something on your mind?”  
“You could say that,” I feel my lips twisting - a smile or a grimace, I'm not sure.  
  
Jaal is silent, his thumb tracing soft patterns over the back of my hand.  
I appreciate his ability to be quiet with me as much as I appreciate his voice when I need the silence filled - always what I need when I need it.  
  
I shift my chair closer to his, resting my head against his shoulder.  
I am completely unsure what to say, how to start this inevitable conversation, how to tell him that I'm feeling so completely lost and alone and afraid; so stricken with grief that I don't know how to handle it, that I'm terrified that eventually I will simply shut down and run on autopilot.  
Jaal shifts, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, fingertips idly stroking my arm, before gently tipping my chin up with his other hand, pinning me with his intense gaze.  
  
“Cassi…” He begins softly and I can’t hold it in any longer.  
"With his last breath, he gave me my life. Just like that. He didn't even have to think about it, he saw I couldn't breathe, saw I was dying and gave me his helmet,” I am vaguely away that I am on the verge of sobbing as I hiccup slightly through my words. “The last thing I saw before I lost consciousness was his face - he was smiling at me, well, his version of a smile, green eyes crinkled at the edges and he still looked so _stern_ , like he was going to start lecturing me at any moment...and...and...I remember thinking that at least our mother would have company now, at least he'd see her again..."  
  
Jaal is still, with the exception of the movement of his fingers on my arm, galaxy eyes focused on me with an expression so kind and patient that I feel the dam break and the tears flow.  
  
“I’m just so sick of losing people, Jaal. When does it stop? When does all this death and pain and grief end? When I’m dead? When I’m old and grey and can’t remember who I’ve lost or why I’m grieving?”  
“Let it come, dearest,” he murmurs gently. “You do not have to be so strong all the time.”  
“It’s not just my losses either, it’s everything. The missing arks - we don’t know if they’re alive or dead and it doesn’t matter how much I do out there,” I gesture to the window, the stars and worlds outside that are spinning past us like a heavenly poetry. “It just doesn’t matter, there are so many lives unaccounted for, still so many people dying or captured; so many families torn apart and it feels like it’s all for nothing! Every step forward we take, every new settlement we create, it feels as though we get driven so many steps backwards with the delivery of more bad news, the announcement of another death, another loss. I can’t do it, Jaal, I can’t. I wasn’t prepared for any of it! Why the hell did my father think I could do this? It should’ve been Cora, or someone else, _anyone_ else!"  
  
Jaal pulls me towards him, arm tightening around me as he holds me as close as he can. I can smell his unique scent - something sweetly spicy and the charged metallic scent of the bioelectricity that pulses through him.  
  
“I know some of how you feel, Cassi,” his voice is soft, muffled by my hair but I feel it rumbling through me all the same. “When I was younger, I lost my father, too.”  
“Really?” I sniffle a little, embarrassed by my outburst. “Was it the kett?”  
“I cannot say for certain, but I believe so. He was a technician at a mine. One day he went to work and did not return home. It was... terrible.”  
“Jaal, I’m so sorry, I had no idea.”  
“Ah,” he shrugs a shoulder. “It happens every day for an angara child somewhere. It is the nature of the kett invasion. They take everything.”  
“They really do,” I agree quietly, dabbing at my eyes with the corner of my sleeve. “I’m sorry about all this, I just have moments where it’s all way too much to carry, you know?”  
“I understand, dearest. And you have no need to apologise, you of all people should be able to let your emotions show when you need to. I’m honored that you feel able to trust me with them.”  
“It’s like I’m carrying the weight of several thousand lives on my shoulders. I feel responsible for everyone out there, the people in cryo, the ones still missing. Even the dead. Does this get any easier?”  
“Hmm,” Jaal shifts a little, the hand on my shoulder moving to stroke my hair. “I wish I could answer that. Being part of the Resistance gave me some understanding of how it feels to be responsible for many lives, but I always had my family behind me to keep me strong and clear.”  
“I wish my brother was here,” my voice is choked with unshed tears. “I know he’d be utterly dreadful at comforting me but he’d do something stupid until I laughed at least. I was the serious one, he was the joker - we balanced out in a way. But now I don’t even know if he’s going to wake up. I might never get to hear one of his crappy jokes again.”  
“I know,” I feel the gentle press of his lips on the top of my head. “There are times, at night when I’m alone and the ship is silent when I miss the noise and business of my family. It didn’t matter what time it was, there was always someone coming or going, someone greeting another with a welcome embrace and some food.”  
“It sounds wonderful,” I smile up at him, enchanted when he smiles back.  
“Someday, I will take you there. To meet them all.”  
  
I’m not sure he realises how much this simple statement means to humans - meeting the family is a tradition accompanied by nerves and the desire to impress and be accepted.  
I swallow, another worry pressing itself to the forefront of my mind - what if he does that and they don’t like me? Would that effectively end any hope of our relationship going further? I don’t think I could lose someone else, not when I’ve just found them and started... _feeling._  
  
And oh, Gods above, am I ever feeling, but with that comes uncertainty, fear and a sense of falling weightlessly through an endless sky.  
  
“You are thinking very deeply, dearest,” Jaal chuckles a little, cocking his head at me, eyes bright and intent.  
“I am,” I nod, and for the first time that day my smile is full and genuine because despite the new worries clamouring to be heard, I feel something like hope. “But I think it’s less dark up there now. Thank you.”  
“Any time,” his lips quirk in a smile and he places a tender kiss on my forehead.  
  
I curl up in my chair and rest against the solidity of him, both of us watching the galaxy fly past the window as we fly towards another planet; another world.  
Yeah, there’s going to be more loss, more death, more grief, I know that and I know that I’ll have more days like this where it’s all too much for me to bear. But now I know I have someone behind me that will help lift the weight, someone that will carry me through the darkness into the light where there’s hope, new life and possibly even love.


End file.
